


Wolverine

by taylor_tut



Series: Whump Bingo [3]
Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: David Whump, Gen, Injury, Mild Blood, Protective Max, Whump, dadvid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 17:32:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14313693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: For Whump Bingo on my tumblr: David loses a lot of blood and gets a little loopy. Max isn't pleased.





	Wolverine

In retrospect, maybe they shouldn’t have let the Quartermaster order the petting zoo.

“None of these are really… petable,” David noted as the shady-looking delivery people unloaded a van full of cages. A cobra, a wolverine, an adolescent bear. 

“Mmph,” Quartermaster grumbled, “anything’s petable if you pet it.”

David looked incredibly apprehensive, but the cages had already been opened inside the pen, and the children were already gathered around them.

“Campers,” David began, realizing that there was no turning back now, “today’s lesson is… animal appreciation,” he began.

“I thought it was supposed to be animal bonding,” Neil corrected, and David grimaced. 

“We changed it,” he said simply. “Now, we’re going to appreciate these animals! From a very safe distance!” 

“Fuck that,” Max said as he fished a packet of peanut-butter crackers from his pocket and stuck one through a small hole in the fence. 

“Now, first of all, animal safety. You see, we have a cobra in here,” David announced, “and we probably should NOT, because--how could we describe the holes in this fence?”

Nikki jumped up. “Ooh, I know!” she exclaimed. “I’d describe them as ‘a little bit bigger than a cobra.’” 

David took a calming breath and tried to come to terms with the life events that had led him here. 

“That’s… that’s a good description.” He looked over the campers somewhat concerned faces, and went from wary to panicked when he saw the wolverine that was walking toward Max, whose hand was reaching through the fenee. “Max, don’t--!” Instinct was quicker than insight, and he stepped inside the cage over the fence to get to the other side more quickly, not taking into account (or really even knowing, for that matter) how fast a wolverine was.

The answer was “faster than David.”

His leg was torn up before he knew what had even happened.

“Fuck--David!” Gwen shouted, pulling him out of the cage as one of the shady zookeepers muzzled the wolverine. “David, Jesus, oh my God,” she panicked. 

“Deep breath,” David managed. Of course he was freaking concerned about her as his leg leaked blood all over the grass. “Anxiety. Get the kids--shit,” he hissed, taking a sharp breath through his teeth, “this hurts. Get the kids away.”

Max’s eyes couldn’t be torn away from David’s leg no matter how much Gwen tried, and eventually trying to coax him away became less pressing than calling an ambulance.

“I’m--you shouldn’t have done that,” Max stammered.

David’s face was sweating and contorted with pain. “If I hadn’t, this could have been your hand,” he pointed out.

“I’d have deserved it,” Max mumbled. “I was being stupid.”

David reached out in an attempt to pat Max’s shoulder, but drew it back when he realized just how absolutely soaked in blood it was. For some reason, that was hilarious. 

“What the fuck is funny about this?” Max demanded.

“It was--” he broke off laughing again, “a wolverine! Not even the X-men kind!” 

Max raised an eyebrow. “How the hell would the X-men Wolverine scratch you up like this?”

David giggled again. “How did the animal kind do it?” he asked hysterically. 

“David, you’re losing a lot of blood,” Max ignored him, which elicited another fit of giggles. “God, you’re fucking stupid right now.”

“Language,” David managed to scold somewhat seriously through the laughter-tears. 

“You’re--you’re really freaking me out,” Max admitted. “Why can’t you be normal?”

David tried to stifle the laughter, but failed. “Come on, David,” Max coaxed, “stop it.” 

Gwen returned with a bag full of gauze and bandages and Max scooted out of her way while she started to wrap his leg tightly.

“The ambulance should be here soon,” she promised, “how’re you feeling?”

Max answered for him. “He’s fucking delirious,” he said, “he won’t stop laughing.”

Gwen nodded as if that were completely fucking normal. “It’s just the adrenaline,” she explained.

“Oh, cool, thanks for the neurology lesson, Miss Psych Degree,” Max bit, despite the fact that he did feel a bit better knowing that David’s brain’s weren’t leaking out his leg. 

David smiled, barely coherent and bordering manic. “My leg hurts,” he complained. 

“No shit,” Gwen grimaced. “It’ll feel better soon.” 

David’s laughter finally tapered off as his ability to stay awake started to fade, and by the time the ambulance arrived, he was fully unconscious.

Max would soon learn that painkiller David was almost worse than adrenaline David, both of which were worse than regular David, which was saying something. But the “animal appreciation from a safe distance” message was driven home pretty solidly, and David would take that as a win.


End file.
